Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (10 page)

I turn to greet Lucas and as we shake hands he leans in and grunts, “Way to play it cool, bro.”

I scowl at him, feeling jealous for the first time in a very long time that he’s holding a beer right now. Today is obviously going to be awkward as fuck.

When we sit down to eat and get caught up with our usual small talk, I finally relax. Lucas and I dig each other at every chance we get while Kelley and Kinsley laugh and roll their eyes. It feels comfortable to have everyone joking and shooting the shit.

Once we’ve all had our fill of turkey, stuffing, and Eli’s famous sweet potato casserole, Eli gets a big smile on his face. “You know, for as long as I can remember it’s just been me and these two knuckleheads around for the holidays.” He gestures with his thumb to Lucas and me. We smirk innocently. “But I have to say it’s quite nice to have the company of two such smart, beautiful ladies for a change. Ever since Luc and I lost his mom this house has been missing the sweet sound of a woman’s laughter, and hearing it tonight makes this place feel like it’s home to a real family again. I just want to say how lucky I am that my boys here found such perfect people to love and to spend the rest of their lives with.” He holds up his water glass to toast. “Here’s looking forward to many, many more years filled with moments like this.”

A heavy, sentimental silence fills the air as everyone nods and follows suit. I try to swallow past the lump that forms in my throat before raising my own glass. The conversation between everyone else picks up again but the room suddenly feels too stuffy for me, so I excuse myself, mumbling something about grabbing dessert.

Once I reach the kitchen I place my hands on the counter, palms down, trying to take deep breaths. Lucas and Eli are pretty much the only family I have—the ones that have always been there for me anyway—and hearing Eli talk about his wife and Kelley and love and the future does weird shit to my head. And my chest. Love? That shit is just a sign of weakness. A sign you’ve lost control to someone else. But there is also nobody I respect more than Eli, and I realize I’m fucked if I think I could ever be anywhere close to the kind of father he is.

I hear a throat clear behind me and it just about makes me jump out of my skin. “Need any help with that pie?”

I glance back and relax when I see it’s not Eli. Or Kelley. Neither of them need to know how fucked up I’m feeling about this right now. “Jesus, Kins. You scared the shit out of me.” I laugh, but it comes out hollow.

“Sorry. Just thought you could use some help.” She leans on the counter next to me. “And I’m not just talking about the pie.” I raise my eyebrow confused. “It’s weird to hear Eli talk about family, especially when you have such a messed up past like me.” She smiles gently, and I think I know where this is going. “I get the sense you know how that is, too, Ry, right?”

I scoff like I have no idea what she’s talking about. “I’m fine, Kinsley, really.” Shit. What is it with everyone today? Maybe I can sneak out the back to avoid dealing with any of them.

She shrugs, seeming to buy it. “Ok.” She reaches over and grabs the apple pie I’ve been staring blankly at. “But I used to think I could control everything, too, you know. It didn’t work out very well for me, and I’m guessing it won’t for you, either.” She chuckles playfully before waltzing back to the dining room as if she didn’t just try to call complete bullshit on me.

Kelley

Fourteen Weeks

F
or the next few weeks Ryan and I live like hermits, working overtime to avoid everyone. It’s still too early to tell people I’m pregnant, and it’s too weird to pose as a couple in public. We agreed to wait until my next ultrasound, which is this morning, before saying anything about the baby. Part of me has been scared something might happen, and part of me just isn’t ready to deal with it. I’ve stalled as long as I can, as if my situation might magically make any kind of sense, but I’m starting to show and can’t keep it hidden much longer. The less my clothes fit, the more I feel suffocated.

It doesn’t help that Ryan and I have fallen into a comfortable, easy routine. One that lulls me into a false sense of security. Sure, we still argue like crazy, but that’s just us. As much as we disagree, we’re actually quite similar.

Sometimes, like when I’m pigging out on ice cream watching eighties movies late at night, and Ryan keeps stealing bites from my spoon (even though he claims he doesn’t want any) and I am overcome with a feeling of complete satisfaction and contentment, I have to remind myself that this isn’t real. It might be how I pictured my life on the surface, but deep down this situation is only temporary—and completely messed up. I knew going in this is what I signed up for, though, so I keep on pretending, just like we agreed.

I wake up five minutes before my alarm and quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake Ryan. After four straight nights of nightmares when I first moved in, I decided we could share the bedroom—as long as he keeps some damn pants on. The king bed is big enough that we don’t have to touch, though somehow we always wake up right next to each other. It made sense at the time, but lately my sex drive has been increasing by the minute. That, coupled with my raging mood swings, makes for real fun times.

I take a long shower, letting the hot water calm my nerves. I’m anxious to see our baby blob on the ultrasound screen today. Nervous as all hell that something might go wrong, but excited.

I turn off the water and go to step out when I see it—a giant fucking spider blocking my way. I
hate
spiders. I instinctively scream and push myself back into the corner of the shower as far as I can. The bathroom door suddenly bursts open and a fierce, disheveled looking Ryan comes barging in.

“What the fuck? Are you ok?” He looks around wildly, fists clenched and ready, no doubt searching for the axe murderer my over-dramatic screams must have led him to believe was attacking me. When he realizes nobody else is here, he looks confused.

I try to cover myself as best I can with my hands and nod to the shower door just as the eight legged beast starts to crawl away. “There! Kill it! Before it gets away!”

Ryan holds the shower door open and squints at the floor. “Are you kidding me, Brooks? A fucking spider? That’s why you’re in here screaming bloody murder?”

I try to scoff indignantly, but the creepy crawly sonofabitch is on the move again making me shriek. “Please just get it!” I cower in the corner while Ryan grabs a wad of toilet paper.

He tries to squish it when it darts out from under him, making its way between Ryan’s legs. I yelp as Ryan swears and hops around, trying not to step on it with his bare feet. “Fuck you, you little bastard. Ah, shit! Goddamnit!”

Ryan stubs his toe before launching himself to the ground, barely getting his hand down fast enough to squash the spider beneath the toilet paper. He balls it up and forcefully throws it in the toilet, as if slam dunking a basketball. He flushes and as the water swirls around he extends both his middle fingers to the bowl. “Take that you little shit.”

Now that I know the spider is dead and can regain my composure, I can’t help but laugh at how completely ridiculous this situation is. I hold my hand to my mouth to stifle the giggles, forgetting I’m completely naked until Ryan turns and eyes me lustfully through the glass.

I quickly move to cover myself again. “Ok. You can leave now.”

Ryan crosses his arms and leans against the outside shower wall, facing away but making no move to actually leave. “Really. That’s the thanks I get for saving your life?”

I try to keep the smile out of my voice. “Nice try. That peek is the only thing you’ll get, so enjoy it, pal. Now get out please.”

“Well since you said please . . .” He heads to the door, but before he exits he turns his head to get one last look. I reach for the nearest object—a sopping wet washcloth—and hurl it at him. “Go!” I yell, just as the cloth misses his head when he slips outside and closes the door, laughing the whole time.

By the time I exit the bathroom a half hour later, fully dressed and ready, Ryan is no longer in the room. I pad out to the kitchen and find him looking at his phone. He smiles as he pours me a mug of ginger tea, which I kind of enjoy now.

I grab a yogurt from the fridge and try to open the counter drawer to get a spoon, but it’s stuck. I pull harder, frustrated.

Without saying a word, Ryan leans over the counter and flicks his finger to release a bit of plastic stuck inside. He casually goes back to what he was doing.

I remain still, looking puzzled. He glances up. “I couldn’t sleep last night and installed some baby-proofing stuff around the house.”

I pin him with an open-mouthed stare as I try to understand. “Is that what was in all those packages you’ve had delivered lately?” I grab a spoon from the newly opened drawer and point it at my belly. “You do realize this thing is the size of a lemon right now, right? I don’t think it will be reaching for kitchen drawers anytime soon.” He shrugs and returns to his phone.

I stroll to the living room to eat my breakfast, attempting to conceal a smile. I shouldn’t find this adorable . . . I mean, he’s crazy. I take a spoonful of yogurt and swallow it. I simultaneously try to swallow any feelings that make my heart want to melt. What right does he have doing cute shit like this? The guy needs to lay off the Internet research. I guess it’s nice he’s interested in helping and all, which is the point of me being here, but baby-proofing isn’t necessary for our charade—especially this early—so what kind of crap is he trying to pull? I bet he’s trying to mess with me . . . mock the fact that this is all a big joke. The thought makes me instantly angry.

“By the time our kid is old enough to get into things, this whole pretend family thing will be long over, anyway,” I call from the couch, simultaneously trying to remind myself while also attempting to get a rise out of him as pay back. “Way to go wasting your time and money on that one, pal.”

I can’t tell if he doesn’t hear me or purposely doesn’t respond. Either way I’m left to sulk, feeling lonely and upset.

Ryan

“F
avorite movie?”

“Some princess bullshit.”

“Real nice. It’s called The Princess Bride. Favorite music?”